


A Lesson in Spying

by ambooradley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Awkward Dean Winchester, Business owner Dean, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Neighbors, Consent is Sexy, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaker Charlie Bradbury, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Porn With Plot, Professor Castiel, Rimming, Smut, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambooradley/pseuds/ambooradley
Summary: Dean Winchester gets a new neighbor. A new cute neighbor.His last relationship blew up in his face, so he's thrown himself into starting a business- Winchester Luxury Auto. Because he's been so busy, he hasn't really had time for fun.In fact, he's been so busy with work that he doesn't sleep very well. And it seems neither does the new neighbor. Dean accidentally catches Castiel up late one night, and he just can't seem to stop looking.Until Charlie finally does something about it.





	A Lesson in Spying

**Author's Note:**

> I should definitely be working on my WIP, but here's an entirely different fic instead!

The first time it happens, Dean freezes. He's half asleep, TV flickering in his otherwise dark room. He doesn't even know why he looks out the window. It's some divine mystery that at 1 a.m. on a random Thursday he feels the need to glance out the window. And, boy, what divination it is, because the new neighbor still hasn't put curtains up on what Dean can assume is his bedroom window.

There he is, shadow moving across the window. The blinds are closed, but there's a light coming in behind him, casting his body in a perfect outline against the large bay window.

Dean swallows. It's late, but the dude is clearly still very much awake. His neighbor runs a hand through his hair, and Dean can see the spiky strands standing up after his hand falls. What's he doing? It looks like he's just sitting, and from the height the shadow of his head is from the bottom of the window he has to be on his bed. The guy's head drops down and then back up several times. It's so late though. Why's he still up?

Dean turns the TV off and tosses the remote on the other side of the bed. His brother, Sam, had made fun of him for shoving his bed against the window in his room, talking about how it wasn't very adult, but now that he can't sleep and gets a show, he's more than pleased with his decision. It beats staring up at the ceiling.

He shifts his body down the bed and pulls the blinds up enough so that he can see the neighboring window. He shapes his pillow into a ball and shoves it under his head, adjusting himself so that he can continue to look at his neighbor.

The guy is still hunched over something in his bed, and Dean blinks back his fatigue. It's been a busy few weeks at work, but insomnia has gotten the better of him. Watching the neighbor methodically lift his head as if he's thinking, only to snap it back down every few moments is hypnotic. Dean doesn't understand what he's doing.

He glances at the clock: 1:15. He's got just one more day of work this week, so maybe he can stay up a little later and watch his neighbor. He's tired, but he can't really tear his eyes away.

The house next to him had been vacant for months before the new guy moved in. It's only been a few weeks. Dean hasn't even had a chance to introduce himself with how busy work has been. Do people even still introduce themselves to new neighbors?

He starts to feel his eyelids droop but jerks awake when he sees the shadow move again. He brings something to his lips, a pen maybe, and Dean watches as the outline of said pen drops down into the shadow where he can't see. Maybe he's writing.

His suspicion is confirmed when a few minutes later the shadow stands and closes a book in front of him. Dean can see him stretch to place the book out of view of the window before stretching, arms high above his head. The shadow gets larger as the man moves away, and then the light goes out altogether.

Now that the neighbor is finally headed to bed, Dean feels himself nod off quickly. He falls asleep in front of the window, not even bothering to crawl back up under the covers of his bed.

*

And so starts a new routine: Dean finds himself awake at random hours of the night, and he pulls the blinds apart nine times out of ten just to see if the guy is up. Most of the time he's not, but his shadow moves across the window enough that Dean can't stop hoping he'll catch him.

The guy seems to thrive at night. Dean gets to work from home a lot (a perk of owning his own business), and he takes to pulling up the blinds in his office just to see if the neighbor moves around during the day. He hardly ever sees him leave in the morning, so maybe he works from home, too, but at least three times a week during the evening he does catch him standing on his porch in workout clothes, gently placing earbuds in his ear before taking off down the block.

 _I could take up running_ he thinks and then immediately feels his cheeks heat at the thought. He's considering literally chasing the guy. Dean Winchester does not chase.

He hasn't gotten laid in some time. The burgeoning business has taken up all of his attention, so he can't really blame himself for having a crush on the boy next door. Plus he's finally hired enough people that some of the stress of success has been taken off of him. Winchester Luxury Auto has made quite a name for itself, and Dean is finally able to relax for the first time in a year.

But he's still too busy to really have a good time, so part of his crush can probably be chocked up to loneliness. Maybe it's time to meet him instead of just getting to know the shadow of him.

Dean devises a plan. He waits until the neighbor's Friday run, very creepily pulling the blinds up on the upstairs office window to see when he leaves. He's been staring and pacing for several minutes when the guy is finally on his porch, bending over the railing. Dean can see the line of muscle in his back even from here and nearly falls into the small table in front of the window. _Smooth_ , he thinks. He catches himself and then looks at his watch. 6 p.m. He'll have an hour before he's back.

There's more pacing and pulling the curtains back. He makes an elaborate dinner and eats it slowly, cleaning all of the dishes and putting the leftovers away and there's still fifteen minutes left.

He opens a book and sits on his couch, but he doesn't read. He glances at his watch and thinks about the orders he's gotten this week. There's been a pretty nice 1920's era Hudson Super Six Phaeton on call this month that the parts have been on back order for. He's thinking about how he needs to buff out a spot on the headlight when his watch lights up.

It's time.

Dean pulls open the front door just a little too forcefully and just barely keeps himself from jogging to the mailbox. He shows a lot of restraint as he notices the neighbor coming down the road. He closes the door to the mailbox and turns. The guy is sweating, and Dean has never been so thankful for summer because his neighbor pulls his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing abs and the top of his shorts that have fallen just slightly past his hip bones.

Dean puts his hand up and waves. The neighbor squints as he slows, turning into his driveway and finally slowing to a walk. Dean doesn't stop smiling as he walks up to his own door, tucking the mail under his arm. The neighbor has darker hair than he was expecting, and it sticks up in places, similar to the shadow a few weeks ago.

The guy starts stretching out his quads. Dean can see his chest still heaving, but he strides across their shared lawn anyway. He knows he should just leave it alone, but he can't.

"Hey, neighbor," he says as he stretches his hand out. "Nice, night, huh?"

The guy pulls his earbuds out, and Dean can hear the bass thumping as he drops his leg down and turns to face Dean fully. He meets him in the lawn.

His eyes are very light blue, almost shocking in the color. He face is covered in sweat droplets, and he finally reaches a hand out to shake Dean's.

"Kind of warm," he grovels. His voice is deep, and that does wonders for the fantasy Dean has slowly been building since he caught the guy writing that first time.

His eyes narrow, and Dean realizes he's been staring too long. "I'm Dean," he says and drops his hand. "Been meaning to say hi. Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Dean," he says.

They continue to stand in the grass and Dean swats lazily at a mosquito.

The guy finally breaks the silence. "Well, I need to get changed. It's nice to meet you." He turns to go in his home, and Dean almost lets him. He's already halfway turned around when he realizes he never got his name.

"Wait, uh," he brings a hand to the back of his neck and watches the guy turn back around. He clears his throat. "If you need anything, just knock."

The guy nods, eyebrows furrowing, before turning back around.

Dean clears his throat again, stopping the guy, and now he's clearly annoyed. "I didn't catch your name." He smiles wide to hopefully put the guy at ease, but it just serves to annoy him further.

"Castiel," he replies curtly.

Dean smiles wider. "Nice to meet you, Cas."

He turns finally and shuffles back up his porch, not pausing to look at Dean again.

Dean turns and strides across his lawn. He turns when he's at his door and catches the guy- Cas- letting the blinds down quickly.

Dean smiles. Looks like they both enjoy the picture out of the window.

*

Summer heats up, and Dean keeps watching the shadow of Castiel move in his bedroom window. He seems to be writing later and later, and Dean takes to staying up in order to watch him. He knows it's wrong. He's spying. The guy still hasn't gotten curtains, but surely he can see the shadow on his own window and understand that anyone looking in can see him.

Maybe he doesn't care.

Despite the chilly meeting, Dean can't shake his crush. And it's quickly turning into lust. Not getting laid in months means even a shadow turns him on.

Most of the time, the guy changes in his bedroom. Dean can see him pull his shirt over his head. A shadow doesn't show much, but Dean knows how ripped he is and can use his imagination. He watches him bend over as he takes off his pants, and his hands knead his rounded ass after a run.

Cas stays up and writes several nights after his shower. Dean sees him towel off often enough that he starts to get hard at just the sight of his neighbor's bedroom light flicking on.

Still, with all the hours of watching the guy strut his stuff in his room, everything's been relatively tame.

Until now.

It's way past his bed time, even for a weekend. Cas has been in his room for hours, but so far he's just been sitting on his bed. Occasionally he brings a glass up to his face and drinks, and Dean can see the shadow of his Adam's apple bob when he does so. It's all a bit boring, but Dean's got nothing better to do.

Suddenly he's laying flat, and Dean watches as the shadow strips off his pants, his hips pressing up and his feet kicking at the hem to get them off. He sits up again and the shadow of a shirt pulls above his head. His arms drop to his side again and then he's flat on his back. Dean thinks that maybe he's going to sleep, but the light is still on, and then he's got some sort of thick cylinder in his hand. Dean is confused for far too long. Then it hits him. Cas is touching himself.

Dean jolts upright. He knows he shouldn't be watching this. It's wrong. He needs to just roll over and go to sleep, and he tries, he really does. But he's been trained to respond to that light. It's Pavlovian. He's already gone on Cas. And what could it hurt if he watched? He never has to know.

Dean peaks back through the blinds. Cas is slowly stroking himself, one knee bent. The outline of his body is long, and he watches the hand work its way up and down. His stomach rises and lowers in small increments. It's a languid pace, and Dean has the errant thought that all the running probably means the guy's got stamina.

He feels his body heat when Cas pauses at the tip. He's so hard, and Dean is quickly following suit. He pulls the blinds up enough to be able to look in the window while laying down. He watches the guy slowly stroking himself, and Dean shoves a hand up under his shirt to trace a nipple.

Cas' length stands straight up as a finger circles the tip once, then twice, before dragging up his body and clearly being sucked into his mouth.

Cas is tasting himself.

Dean's body is on fire. He lets out a moan and then he's stripping himself of all his clothes. He's annoyed he wasted precious seconds while getting naked because now Cas' hand is back on his dick, stroking faster, while the other hand is higher on his chest. Two fingers come together in a pinch of what Dean assumes is his nipple, causing Cas' body to pitch upright. He drops the knee down, hand running down his body while the other strokes faster.

There's no way Dean can keep from touching himself. He's literally sweating from the scene in front of him even though the air conditioner hums in his otherwise quiet room. He keeps his eyes locked on Cas' shadow and matches the movement. His hand mirrors the shadow, stroking up and down. Cas' wrist twists at the the top, and Dean is worried he'll finish way before he gets to see Cas come.

Dean slows himself and loosens his grip. His other hand snakes its way under his balls, pressing lightly at his perineum. He takes a deep breath.

Cas is rapidly stroking himself, other hand gripped in a ball next to him. He's probably fisting the sheet, and Dean has to let go of himself altogether at the thought of that hand digging into the flesh of his ass.

He watches Cas for a moment, just breathing. His chest heaves up and down as his head is thrown back. He seems to be losing it. Dean feels the disappointment in not being able to come together, when Cas suddenly lets go and sits up.

His shadow is kneeling, head hung and slight pooch of a belly heaving. His dick is a straight line in front of him. Dean can tell how hard he is, even if all he can see is a shadow. He takes himself in hand again as Cas settles back on his heels.

He brings a hand under his face, hanging his head. Dean sees a glob of spit fall into his open palm and then his hand is back on the thick line of him.

Dean speeds up. There's no way he could last watching his reserved neighbor like this. It's entirely debauched, and the whole act serves to ratchet up his desire even more.

Cas' back arches as his hips thrust into his hand. His head is thrown back, the line of his throat moving periodically as he swallows.

From here, Dean can see it all. It's like he's there with Cas, watching as he gets himself off. His own need ticks higher and he holds his breath as his stomach starts to spasm. He hopes Cas is just as close.

He can't tear his eyes away. Cas' hips thrust wildly into his hand. His mouth opens and closes and Dean can almost hear the breathy moans he has to be making. It's too much. He's going to fucking lose it.

Finally, Cas's body goes taut and Dean sees the shadow of his come spurt in lines above him. Cas cups his dick so that it lands on his own body, and then he collapses against the bed, but not before Dean catches him swiping through where the mess landed and rubbing the come into his skin. He's marking himself.

Dean explodes at that. Of course he's come in this dry spell, but watching Cas please himself makes this orgasm so powerful that his calf cramps.

He lays there panting, watching as Cas does the same. He should get up and clean himself, but he just wants to lay in the afterglow a little longer.

Cas does get up though. His shadow gets larger as he walks to whatever light source causes the backlit window. He's gone a few moments, and Dean guesses it's the bathroom light. His body reappears in the window frame before disappearing as the light goes out. There's another light still on in the room, but it's softer. There's no more shadow.

So Cas doesn't use the overhead light. The lamp by his bed coupled with the bathroom light he keeps on entirely too often is the culprit behind Dean's voyeurism. He hopes Cas never realizes it.

The light finally goes off, and Dean reaches for his shirt to clean himself off. He rolls over uncovered, skin still too hot in his cold room and looks into the dark window of his neighbor.

He should feel guilty. He doesn't. Instead he feels an overwhelming desire to sleep. So he closes his eyes and whispers a soft _night Cas_ and does so.

*

Charlie comes over a couple of weeks later under the pretense of having one of Dean's famous burgers, but Dean guesses Sam called her to say he's been working too much.

It's not entirely untrue, but he doesn't need his baby brother and best friend nagging him about the effects of all work and no play. His current most intimate relationship is with a shadow. He knows he needs to get out more.

Dean's in the backyard grilling as Charlie mixes a pitcher of drinks when a door opens. Dean turns to see Cas step out on his back patio with a book in hand.

It's still light out, but thanks to a quick afternoon summer storm, it's cooled off enough that he could sit outside and read. His patio is comfortable. For a guy who still hasn't put up curtains after months of living in his home, he's spared no detail to the patio. Lights loop across the pergola. He has matching outdoor furniture surrounding a small pond. There's a large metal hanging of a bee on the back door, which Dean finds adorable.

Cas doesn't pay any attention to Dean. He curls up on the couch immediately and opens his book. Dean watches him settle in. The book is open on his pulled up knees. His brows furrow as his eyes skirt the lines, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips when he turns the page. Dean can't see what he's reading, but it looks to be the most interesting thing ever because Cas' full attention is on it. He gets lost in the way he concentrates. The way his lips quirk up as he's reading is adorable. He is so handsome.

"I think they're burning."

Dean startles and almost drops the spatula into the grill.

"Jesus, Charlie. Warn a guy next time." He flips the patties and sees a little bit of black on the bottoms, but they're salvageable.

Charlie hands him a glass as Dean puts the lid back on the grill. She's got that glint in her eye that means she's up to no good, and Dean hardly gets a sip of his drink before it's confirmed.

"He's cute," she says just slightly too loud. There's no mistaking who she's talking about.

Dean whips around and slugs her in the shoulder. "Shhhh."

A bit of her drink sloshes on to her hand, and she sucks a finger into her mouth. "Ow, Captain Jerk."

"Sorry."

She laughs. "It doesn't seem like you're sorry at all. What's his name?"

Dean narrows his eyes. "Just my neighbor, Charlie."

"The way you're staring makes me think you want him to be more than that."

Dean scoffs. "Yeah."

"Wait," she drawls out. Dean feels himself being turned around. He can't meet her eye. "Oh my god! You like, like him!"

The squeal she lets out at Dean's flushed cheeks in answer is high pitched and definitely gets Cas' attention. He looks more startled than annoyed, book falling out of his lap. Dean darts his eyes back to Charlie, but not before Cas catches him looking.

If Dean's not mistaken, he sees a hint of a smile. That throws him for a moment.

Charlie is still jumping up and down and will not be ignored, however.

"Alright, alright. Don't go full kangaroo."

She laughs and stops jumping, swallowing what's left in her glass. Cas slips back inside.

"So that's why you've been holed up in your house for weeks."

Dean takes the lid back off the grill and flips the burgers again. "And I would have gotten away with it if it weren't for my meddling brother."

Charlie rolls her eyes. "I was due to visit even if Sam hadn't called."

She takes his glass as he moves the burgers onto a plate, and they go inside. They move in tandem as they set everything up for the burgers. It's nice to have company, Dean will admit.

"So have you talked to him yet?"

"We met once. Not exactly a fairy tale."

"Well he looks like Prince Charming. What's the deal? What happened when you met him?"

They move their plates to the kitchen island and Charlie lets out an indecent noise as she takes at bite of her burger.

Dean barks out a laugh at that. No matter how many times she's had these, she always makes the same noise whenever she takes a bite. "Caught him when he was coming back from a run. We just said hi." He takes a bite of his own burger as she puts hers down.

"Does Prince Charming have a name?"

"Castiel," he says around a mouthful of food.

"Weird name."

"Yeah, I had to look it up. It means shield of God. I've just been calling him Cas."

"Does know you're calling him Cas?"

Dean sputters. "I said it once."

"And you haven't talked to him again."

"I mean, he's my neighbor. It's not like we're best friends."

"But you're not really trying to talk to him." She gets up to scoop more potato salad onto her plate.

"What am I supposed to do? I introduced myself. Told him to knock if he needed anything. He hasn't knocked. Ball's in his court. It's just a crush, Charlie."

She snorts. "But you always do this. You haven't put yourself out there since-"

Dean groans. "Don't say it!"

"Since Lisa."

"Damn it, Charlie. It has nothing to do with her."

"You say that, but you won't even try to talk to the one person who's piqued your interest since Lisa. What she did was wrong, but it doesn't mean that everyone is going to screw you over."

"Jesus, I put myself out there. I don't even know if he's into guys. I felt like I was clear in my intentions, but he totally blew me off. What else do you want me to do?"

"I'm not saying marry the guy. Just maybe ask him over for a drink." She pauses. "Better yet..."

Charlie hops off the chair. She has the pitcher and is out of the kitchen before Dean has time to react. He scrambles.

"Charlie! No, wait!" He runs after her and catches up just as the front door closes. She's already halfway across the yard before Dean finally gets a hand on her wrist.

Charlie looks at him expectantly. Dean swallows.

"I just. Uh. I don't know, Charlie. He already made it kind of clear he's not interested."

She rolls her eyes. "You caught him after a run. He was probably annoyed he met his cute neighbor when he was sweaty. You've been pining after him. What's the big deal in trying a second impression?"

Dean swallows again and tries to work over some excuse other than he's been a total fucking creep as to why they should just leave him alone. He fails.

Charlie narrows her eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

Dean blushes, bringing a hand up to his neck. "Nothing! I just. I mean. I, uh," he stammers.

Charlie smiles wide. "Great! Let's go get him drunk."

She turns before Dean can stop her again. Dean groans but follows.

Charlie rings the doorbell. They wait for a full minute before they finally hear anything. It feels like forever.

Cas is a small mess when he finally opens the door. His hair stands up in odd ways. His shirt is wrinkled. He's wearing jeans and no socks. He still looks undeniably hot.

Cas smiles kindly, confusion behind his eyes, as he looks from Charlie to Dean. The three of them stare at each other.

Charlie, thankfully, breaks the awkwardness. "Hi!" she says. "I'm Dean's friend, Charlie. We're grilling tonight and just thought we'd come by to see if you'd like one of my famous mojitos."

Cas' confused expression gives way to a small smile. "I, um. Thank you?"

"You're welcome."

He blinks owlishly at them. Dean can't stop staring at his wide, blue eyes.

Charlie clears her throat. "We have some food leftover. Dean here is pretty famous for his burgers." She bumps him with her shoulder. "You should come over and try one." She looks up at Dean then. "Shouldn't he, Dean?"

"Oh, yeah." He coughs. "There's too much for just us. You can have as much as you want. Of the food, I mean."

Charlie smirks. Cas licks his lips. Dean swallows.

"Yes, I can do that," he says.

"Great!" Charlie's squeals.

"Yeah, great," Dean echos.

"Just let me grab my shoes."

"Oh, sure, yeah," Dean says, voice wavering. "Just come on in when you're ready."

"Thanks," Cas murmurs as he closes the door.

Dean lets out all of breath. "Damn it, Charlie."

They head back over to Dean's home.

"What?" She feigns innocence. "I thought that went swimmingly."

"Now we have like ten seconds to clean my whole house."

She scoffs. "Like your house is ever anything but immaculate."

"Not the point." They stride back in the house and head to the back. Charlie busies herself putting the rest of her uneaten burger in the microwave. She fills three glasses with the mojitos. Dean wipes imaginary crumbs off the counter.

They dance around each other as they tidy up the already tidy room. Dean rearranges the topping tray so that it looks like he and Charlie didn't use it.

Despite telling him not to, Cas knocks a moment later. He's wearing flip flops and has tucked in his shirt. He's even smoothed down his hair.

"Hello, Dean," he says in that deep voice. Dean could melt.

"Hi ya, Cas."

They smile at each other just a beat too long. Charlie yells from the kitchen. "Food's getting cold!"

"Come in," Dean says. Cas steps through the threshold and ditches his shoes. He likes that Cas doesn't wear shoes in people's houses. It's endearing. Dean closes the door and pointedly does not stare at his ass. But those jeans do look good on him.

Cas turns and smiles, just slightly too close. Dean licks his lips and Cas flicks his eyes down to them and back up. He clears his throat.

"I was promised dinner."

"Yeah, right. This way." Dean sweeps a hand out in front of him and leads him to the kitchen.

Cas lets out a short whistle. "Your place is nice. I thought our homes might be similar, but yours is definitely more lovely."

"You should have seen it before Dean got his hands on it," Charlie pipes up. She hands him a glass.

Cas' eyebrows go up. "You fixed it up?"

Dean blushes. "Just a couple of projects."

"He's being modest. It's kind of what he does. He's the owner of a luxury and vintage car garage. He fixes them, too."

Cas looks impressed, but he just drinks from his glass instead of saying anything.

Charlie hands him a plate. "Here. You can eat with me since Dean already scarfed his down."

Cas laughs, and Dean feels his chest warm. Why does he find a laugh so delightful?

Charlie takes a seat on the outside, forcing the two men to sit next to each other.

"What about you, Castiel? What do you do?"

Cas sets his glass down. "I'm a professor in religion. I'm on sabbatical right now."

"That's cool," Charlie says. "So are you, like, writing a book?" 

"Eventually, yes. Right now I'm just thinking."

"What are you thinking?" Dean asks.

It's like Charlie's not even there, Dean is so wrapped up in Cas' blue eyes.

"Right now about the sacred and profane." He glances down at Dean's lips. "How the Song of Songs is both sacred and profane."

"I don't know that book."

"It's very interesting."

Charlie clears her throat, and Dean realizes they've been inching closer together while talking and jerks back.

"Cas, you can put together your burger. Dean kind of goes overboard when he cooks- we have a lot of toppings."

He smirks and then gets up. "Thanks."

Dean watches as he makes his plate, but Charlie quickly snaps him out of his staring. "Oh my god," she mouths. She winks at him.

Dean is definitely blushing as Cas turns back around, but thankfully he ignores it.

"So, you fix up old cars. I study. Charlie, what do you do?"

This starts them into a long story about her "hacktivst" days as she calls it. Cas settles in to listen, only really stopping to stare at Dean when he takes the first bite of his burger. He looks like he wants to say something, but Charlie won't let him. To be fair, she's had a lot to drink by now.

It gets later and later, and Charlie talks and talks. They finish the second pitcher and then move on to beer. Cas never seems to get visibly drunk, but he does get closer to Dean as they talk.

They've moved into the living room and Dean and Cas are sitting on the couch when Charlie says it's late and she should leave.

Dean goes full gay panic.

He jumps up, dislodging Cas from where he had been slightly leaning against him. So they'd gotten very close over the hours that Charlie had been talking. And it had been her idea to move to the living room, and to give Dean a beer so he'd loosen up further, and she'd taken the only other seat not on the couch, forcing Dean to sit next to his crush. So Charlie was great at being a wing-woman, but now that she's leaving, Dean remembers how fucking creepy he'd been and so not smooth he is.

He needs Charlie.

"The guest room is ready, Charlie. You can just stay here."

She smiles. "Already called a Lyft." Her eyes shift to Cas. "It was so nice to meet you."

Cas nods. "Likewise."

"I'll walk you out."

Charlie rolls her eyes but doesn't protest. Dean shuts the door behind them, leaving Cas to finish off his beer alone.

Crickets are going crazy in the yard. There's a slight chill in the air.

"Charlie," Dean hoarsely whispers, "you can't just leave me with him."

"Oh, yes I can." She smiles. "Dean, you're not the same guy you were four years ago. You know how to flirt with a guy. You like Castiel. You don't have to do anything tonight. Just talk to him."

The car pulls up then, and Charlie turns to leave.

"I wasn't kidding about the guest room. You really can stay if you want."

She laughs. "Nah, it's cool. But I do expect a full report tomorrow!"

Dean chuckles nervously, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. He nods.

Charlie opens the door to the car, but at the last second, she turns around and launches herself at Dean.

For such a tiny person, she does squeeze him hard. She pulls back. "Seriously, you're going to be ok."

She smiles up at him, then she does turn and get in the car.

Dean watches as it pulls away.

With a shaky breath, he goes back into his home.

*

Cas is still dutifully sitting on the couch. His beer is in his hand, and he's staring at the label in front of him as if he were reading the book from earlier. He looks up when Dean shuts the door.

"She ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just wanted to make sure the driver wasn't a total creep."

He smiles. Dean finds himself unable to move from the door. Charlie's right. He's not the same guy who wasn't able to flirt years ago. But he's always been some level of awkward, even before Lisa and her betrayal.

Cas seems to sense his hesitation.

He drains his beer and then stands. The guy must have had several drinks by now, but he still seems completely sober in a way that Dean definitely is not.

He walks over to where Dean is leaning against the door with a mischievous glint in his eye. Dean watches his every move, even when he stands way too close to him.

He breathes out hard, and Cas' lips tilt up in a smile. 

"I can see being alone with me makes you uneasy," he states simply.

"What? No," Dean stammers, "I'm fine." He tries and fails to relax his posture, but Cas inches his way closer to him, causing him to stand up straighter and push himself harder into the door. Cas has one of his legs pressed against his own. Dean gulps.

"It's ok. We live next door to each other. There's no rush."

Dean licks his lips in a nervous habit, and Cas' eyes flick down to them and back up. He inches impossibly closer, and now Dean can feel the hard line of his body pressed fully against him. He can't be breathing.

"I can wait," Cas whispers.

Dean stares into his eyes.

Maybe he's feeling brave because of the beer or Charlie or both, or maybe he's just plain horny- it doesn't really matter what causes it, because he surges forward and kisses him hard.

Their teeth click together. Cas seems to hesitate for a moment before pushing him into the door, holding his body against him. He's a long line of muscle, and Dean suddenly has no idea what to do with his hands.

His head is screaming that he started this and should know what to do. He even stops kissing for a moment. Cas must have an uncanny ability to read his mind because then Dean's hands are being held above his head in a vice like grip, and he's being pushed harder into the door.

Cas kisses him like Dean is the only source of oxygen. His lips bruise. He bites at his bottom lip and sucks it into his own mouth before licking into the open seam.

Dean stops thinking.

His hands fall from the door as Cas pushes under his shirt. Dean shivers.

"Is this ok?" Cas whispers. His eyes are earnest, and Dean would laugh if he didn't look so absolutely serious. Of course it's ok.

Instead of saying anything, Dean nods and goes to lean in for another kiss. But Cas stops him.

"I mean it. We can wait."

Dean huffs out a laugh. "No."

He cocks his head to the side. "So you fully intend for me to stay here and kiss you?"

"I fully intend for you to stay here and do more than kiss."

Cas swallows. "I need to hear you say it. What do you expect from this?"

Dean's eyebrows knit together. "I think it's kind of obvious."

"Does naming what you want make you uncomfortable?"

"Standing here when I can clearly feel how turned on you are and not doing anything about it is making me uncomfortable."

It's his turn to huff a laugh at that. "Fine." He inches in closer, grinding his hips into Dean's. "How about I just ask and you nod if you approve?" His voice gets lower, and Dean finds himself nodding along without really registering what he's saying.

"I like knowing exactly what I'm getting myself into, so forgive me if I'm a little forward," he says as he slowly grinds himself against Dean.

Dean's body flushes. Cas is definitely hard, and the line of him ruts into Dean's hip. He shudders.

"You like this?" Cas whispers.

Dean nods as Cas thrusts harder into him. He sucks an earlobe into his mouth and nibbles. Dean's knees weaken, and if Cas weren't already pressing him into the door, he would definitely fall.

"You want to show the way to the bedroom?" he asks as he sucks a light mark into his neck. His lips haven't even left him when Dean pushes against him and pulls his hand toward his room.

As soon as they get the door closed, Cas is back on him. He puts his hands back under his shirt, scratching lightly at his stomach. 

Dean moans as the nails dig into his flesh. Cas' hands go to the button on Dean's pants. "Can I take these off?"

Dean nods as Cas' fingers press into his belly. He rubs his thumb gently on the exposed skin above the button. "I'm going to do this slowly, ok?" he says. "I'm going to unbutton your jeans and unzip you slowly, and then I'm going to strip you out of your underwear." He starts unzipping him then, slowly dragging it down as his other hands slips down the back of his pants and he starts kneading Dean's ass.

"I'm going to lay you out on the bed, and then I'm going to take you apart with my mouth first. Are ok with that?"

Dean moans and nods emphatically. He clutches at Cas' shirt while he talks, his hand moving further into Dean's pants.

"You like my tongue?" Cas asks. He sounds smug. "You want me to lick you open until you're begging me?"

A hot flush runs through Dean. Cas rubs his hand over the thick line of Dean's hard cock, and Dean manages a, "yes, oh please!"

Cas actually laughs at that, and then he's pulling Dean's pants down. Dean steps out of them as Cas kneels below him. His wide, blue eyes stare up at Dean as he comes forward to mouth at his dick through the fabric of his boxers.

Dean can't help it. His hands land on Cas' shoulders, gripping him tightly as Cas's hot mouth breathes over him. Meanwhile, his hands roam around his thighs, inching up his legs to grip his ass.

And then Dean remembers.

"Wait," he barely breathes out. Instantly Cas is off of him, albeit looking a little dazed, and stands to stare at him.

"Did I do something wrong? What didn't you like? Tell me."

Dean would think it's cute if he weren't so embarrassed by what he's about to say.

"It's just, uh. Um- I need to... take care of something."

His cheeks are definitely flushed red, but Cas just tilts his head in confusion.

"If you want me to leave, you can just tell me."

"No! Wha-? No, that's not what I mean. You're staying. You're definitely staying." He takes a breath as Cas narrows his eyes. "In order for you to stay, I need to, um..." He casts a look at his bathroom door.

And Cas gets it.

"Oh," he says. "Oh, yeah. We hadn't planned this. Please, take all the time you need. I'll just wait here."

*

Fifteen minutes and an incredibly clean asshole later, Dean emerges with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Cas is sitting on the bed, looking out the window. He looks back at Dean.

"You know you can see straight into my bedroom window from here, right?"

Shit. He'd left the blinds up. Dean flushes all over again, and, to his dismay, starts to get a little hard at the thought of watching Cas touch himself. He pulls the towel tighter around his waist.

Cas is looking at him then, and Dean is burning with embarrassment. He's never been good at this. Lying, yes, but not about things he feels guilty about.

He definitely feels guilty for this.

Cas stares at him, and Dean forces his eyes up from staring a hole into the ground.

"Dean?" he asks softly. "Have you been watching me?"

Dean's head snaps up at the question. He's trying to think of a lie and failing miserably when Cas strips off his shirt. Dean is glued to his spot. His throat works as he tries to swallow.

"What have you seen?" Cas asks. He drags a finger down his torso, and Dean can see his nipples harden.

Dean shakes his head lightly.

"You must have seen something, right? I spend a lot of time in my room. So tell me."

Something about this voice makes it impossible not to answer. And maybe Dean feels so guilty that he has to just get it off his chest. "I've seen you writing."

Cas quirks an eyebrow up. "Yeah?" He unbuttons his pants. Seems like Dean is getting a strip tease every time he answers a question. "What else?"

Dean swallows. "You taking off your clothes after a run."

Cas nods and unzips his pants, dragging the zipper down slowly. "I knew that big window would be a problem," he says mostly to himself. "What else?" He asks this with a glint in eye, like he already knows what Dean is not saying.

Dean's body flushes further. He's gripping the towel tightly in his hand, and his fingers hurt where they are fisted into a ball. He watches as he strips off his pants altogether, revealing boxer briefs with a large bulge. Cas cups himself as Dean watches, gently rubbing his hand over his length.

Dean is panting. Watching Cas like this, in person and not just a shadow on a window, makes him itch with a physical need that's painful. He wants to be fucked. He wants to watch Cas come undone by his own hand. Dean doesn't know what he wants.

"I saw you doing this," he whispers in spite of himself. It's loud enough that Cas hears it. His eyes close, and he lets out a small moan as his fingers gently cup himself harder.

"You like watching me touch myself, Dean?" he asks with his eyes still closed. The hand not on his dick moves up to pinch a nipple, just like the shadow had done several weeks ago. Cas opens his eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

All Dean can do is nod.

Cas scrambles up then, but he doesn't come over to Dean. Instead, he pulls off his underwear and lays back on Dean's bed. He strokes himself lightly, watching Dean watch him.

"Did you see me come?" he asks. Dean nods, frozen to his spot. Cas groans. "I was thinking about you." He swallows. "I was thinking about fucking my hot neighbor who watches me from his upstairs window sometimes."

Dean should be incredibly embarrassed that he's been caught. But the way Cas is so turned on by the admission stamps down that embarrassment. It's replaced with a need to be touched, a need to watch Cas fuck himself.

Then Cas does it- the thing that had caused Dean to start touching himself in the first place. He swirls a finger against his slit, circling the head of his dick, before bringing it away wet and sucking the finger into his mouth.

Dean lets out an indecent moan at this. He drops the towel.

"Come here," Cas demands.

Dean scrambles to him, and Cas lays him out on the bed. They kiss roughly, spit slick lips being bitten. Cas grinds against him, aligning their dicks up in a way that causes both of them to gasp when Cas thrusts into his hip.

"Cas-" he gasps out. "I'm sorry-" Cas bites into Dean's neck then, causing him to arch up. "Sorry I just watched. It was, _oh_ , it was wrong!" he nearly shouts as Cas' teeth find his nipple.

Cas' head pops up. "I don't care, Dean." There's fire in his eyes. "Voyeurism gets me off."

Dean has nothing to say to that, and Cas must feel the matter is closed because then he's flipping Dean over before pulling his cheeks apart.

The first lick sends Dean bucking up into Cas' mouth. He just holds him harder and licks more firmly over his hole. Dean is so thankful for having an extra enema kit in his house because he hasn't been eaten out in years, and Cas is especially good at it.

"Oh!" he gasps out. "Cas- yes, oh yes. _Please_!" His dick is leaking beneath him. He can feel the wet drag against his belly. All he can do is hold on to the comforter underneath him as Cas absolutely ravishes him. He slurps and sucks and even gets his tongue into the tight ring of him. Dean's stomach spasms. It's been entirely too long since he's been fucked by anyone, and he doesn't want to come before he's had a chance to feel Cas inside of him.

"Cas!" he shouts. "Oh god. Fuck!" He tries to lift himself up, but Cas just uses his hips to drag him into a kneeling position, still using his tongue to absolutely tear him apart. "Castiel, you gotta- _unghhhhh_ you gotta stop. I'm going to fucking- " and then Cas' mouth is off of him.

Dean collapses on the bed. He stares up at Cas with unfocused eyes. He's absolutely heaving.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Dean."

Dean nods, reaching his hands up to pull Cas closer. Instead of moving over him, he leans down and licks a stripe up Dean's dick before getting the head in his mouth. He sucks lightly, and Dean's hands immediately go to his hair, pulling at him hard.

Cas lets him go and looks up at him. "Where do you keep the lube?"

Dean is panting, but he manages to get out "drawer." Cas leans over him and opens the bedside drawer, pulling out a box of condoms and an unopened bottle of KY. Dean had used the open one in the bathroom earlier, and he has a fleeting thought that they should just go get that one before he's distracted by a slick finger being pushed into him.

Dean groans, pulling his knees up.

Cas settles beside him, thrusting the finger in and out at a languid pace. His mouth grazes Dean's ear.

"I haven't fucked someone is so long," he whispers. "I've never fucked anyone as pretty as you." Dean lets out a moan at that, and Cas lets out a breathy laugh. "You like that? You like when I call you pretty?"

Dean nods as the finger speeds up. "Two," he manages to say. He bares his hips down to meet the finger.

His index fingers crooks into his body, and Dean moans indecently. He can't remember ever being this loud.

"I love when you do that, baby," Cas whispers into his ear. "I love that you're so vocal for me."

He rewards him with another finger, the stretch starting to burn. 

"Fuck me," Dean gasps out. The fingers hit his prostate. He can't control himself anymore. A litany of words come out. "Please. Oh, _god_ \- ngahhh. Castiel! You gotta come in me. Wanted it-" another gasp- "ever since I saw you in your window. Please! Don't wanna come like this."

And finally, it works, because Cas removes his fingers before slicking himself and lining up with Dean.

He works his way in slowly, and he probably should have let him work three fingers in because the burn is more than he's used to, but Dean finds that he likes it. He relaxes himself into the bed, pulling his knees higher so that his feet are in the air. This gives the leverage for Cas to fuck into him.

He does so- hard. His balls slap against his thighs, and this time it's Cas who can't control himself. "Dean!" he manages. "Mmmm. You feel so good." He drops down onto his elbows to press his face into Dean's neck, sucking what has to be a pretty sizable bruise into the skin.

The change in position causes his dick to hit his prostate on every thrust, and that, combined with Cas actually _biting_ him causes him to clench down onto Cas. He cries out a startled "oh!," and then he's coming, coating their stomachs and chests in the stuff.

Cas manages a couple more thrusts with Dean so tight around him before he comes, too. He's silent, but his face is screwed up in pure euphoria.

They lay there panting. Cas looks at Dean with a smile on his face, and Dean tries his hardest to not flush under the scrutiny.

"I can do that again," he says, and Dean lets out a laugh that causes some of the come to shift. It's drying and slightly cold, and Cas must sense his discomfort.

He leans over Dean then, but instead of kissing him like he thinks he's going to do, he leans down over his chest and licks up a spot of come. He moans at the taste. Dean's dick gives a hard kick at the sound.

"Jesus, Cas," he grits out.

"You taste good," he says. "Next time I want you to come in my mouth." He states it so matter-of-factly, and if Dean hadn't already come, he might be coming now at the way his voice sounds as he says that.

Cas smiles. He gets up to dispose of the condom and bring something to clean themselves off with. He throws the towel onto the floor, and Dean is so tired he doesn't even think to scold him for that. The booze and food and sex are catching up to him.

He wants to say thank you. To apologize again for watching him without permission. But Cas wraps his arms tightly around him, pulling Dean flush into his front and twining their legs together. The position is so comfortable that Dean can't even stop himself from falling asleep.

The last thing he remembers is a soft kiss to the back of his head.

*

Dean's doing laundry a few months later. He's got his window in his bedroom open as he folds his clothes. It's the time of year where it's too early to have the heat on but too late to have the air on, so he settles for leaving all the windows in his house open while he balls up a pair of socks.

Things have been good. Better than good, actually. Fantastic. He and Cas had seen each other several times a week in the beginning, respecting each others' spaces well enough, but recently Cas has been staying over at Dean's more and more.

In fact, the only reason he's not here right now is because he'd needed to do some research and he thinks best in his own home, "without a hot piece of ass" to distract him, as he'd said.

So Dean's alone, cleaning his house and finishing putting his clothes away. He's got a playlist going, and "So Lonely" by The Police starts up.

Dean's happy. Everything with Cas has worked out so well with what could have been a disastrous start. His business is running better than he ever expected. Sam's doing great at Stanford, and Charlie had only gloated for a week after he'd called to tell her how that first date went.

So he dances. A little at first- just swaying while he sings along. He's alone in his house, and he loves this song and doesn't hear it often enough.

At the first "so lonelies," he really starts getting into it. His sways turn into full blown gyrations, his hips swinging from side to side while the top half of him shakes and shimmies. He slows down at the second verse.

_"Just take a seat, they're always free. No surprise, no mystery."_

Dean sings along loudly, turning the volume up and using a rolled up shirt as a microphone. As the bridge starts, he goes back to folding his clothes, bobbing his head along. By the time the "low, low, lows" start, he's got most of the clothes put away. He dances in to the middle of the room and spins around as the next chorus starts. He's really shouting now. He's breathing hard and laughing as the song fades out.

And then he hears the unmistakable sound of applause.

He suddenly remembers that his window is very much open, with the blinds pulled up, and Cas' bedroom window _where he likes to write best_ faces his own.

He spins around, and sure enough Cas is sitting on the window seat in front of his huge bay window, his own blinds and (overdue) curtains pushed out of the way to let some light it.

He's laughing, his forehead crinkling, as Dean stands there.

It suits them, though, doesn't it? It only seems fair that Cas should see Dean really going at it, though in a very different way.

So he's not embarrassed. Instead, he picks his hand up and waves, then blows a kiss.

Cas, still with a smile on his face, very clearly mouths, "caught you."


End file.
